The Voices
by MercernaryGirl13
Summary: The Voices have grown tired of the undead; they demand Richtofen to slaughter his teammates, but his refusal is forcing him to pay dearly. Now in pain, Nikolai introduces him yo the perfect painkiller.  Warning: fluff


It was that one moment that endangered them, and they almost died, had it not been for Nikolai's last monkey. Surprisingly enough, it was Richtofen that caused their near death experience. He seemed so in the zone, so wrapped up in the slaughter, it came as a shock when he suddenly stopped. That one moment caught Richtofen off guard and the zombies knocked him down, Dempsey went down next, then chain reacted over to Takeo. Nikolai was cornered. No way of escape. The drunken Soviet almost forgot he had one more monkey, but quickly threw when he remembered. He rushed away from the gang of undead and helped his comrades up, starting with Dempsey, then Takeo. He let the Marine and the Warrior take care of the oncoming group while trying to get an answer out of the Nazi.

"Danke, Nikolai."

Nikolai allowed Richtofen to get up before pestering him with questions.

"What the hell, Nazi! Why did you stop? Zombies almost killed Nikolai!" the drunkard exclaimed, obviously upset.

"I'm terribly sorry Nikolai, but I guess I just...just..."

"Just what? Nikolai has all night."

Richtofen looked into the Soviet's eyes, and Nikolai looked back into the Nazi's, seeing the shine of pain in those blue eyes, and not the good kind. Nikolai took slight notice.

Richtofen simply couldn't explain what was troubling him, and even if he did, the low intelligence Soviet would not understand. Best to keep quiet and hope it got better. The doctor strode away without another word, Famas gripped tightly in his black gloved and blood covered hand, leaving a stunned Nikolai in the dressing room of the damned theater.

"What the fuck was that?" Nikolai muttered to himself, pissed off. "Oh well, maybe I'll just go drink."

Nikolai strode away from the dressing room, going through the theater, past the Juggernog machine and to the bar where he stored his vodka in the secret cabinet. He took a large gulp of the clear, bitter liquid, relishing in the warm feeling that prickled his skin in the chilly air. Vodka was his most favorite thing in the whole damn world. If anyone took it away...you wouldn't even want to know, but no one would be stupid enough to do that. No one gets in the way of Nikolai's vodka. Never. Even though the buzz was stealing some of his consciousness and sense of judgement, he couldn't help but think of Richtofen.

Why did Richtofen stop killing, it was like he let the zombies do it. Since when did the crazy Nazi ever think twice about slaughtering, living or dead? Why did that same crazy Nazi look like he was in pain? As far as Nikolai knew, Richtofen wasn't physically hurt. Physical pain was pleasure to the doctor, but maybe it ran deeper than skin, emotionally maybe. Nikolai slumped against the crate. Damn, why couldn't everything be simple? Like...wait...Nikolai didn't have a simple wife. Gee, normally everything was wrong with his four dead, or one runaway, wives. Maybe he would pay a visit to the Nazi, maybe get answers.

Nikolai hoisted himself to his feet and walked up the stairs to the bedrooms where they slept. He walked down the hall until he heard sobbing. High pitched, German sobbing. Nikolai curiously peeked within the room and saw the Nazi, collapsed and sobbing against the wall in a corner. The Soviet's brow quirked. Since when has Richtofen ever cried?

Nikolai slipped himself inside the room, somehow unheard by Richtofen as he closed the door behind him. Maybe it was intended to be closed. The Soviet closed the distance halfway before being noticed. The doctor turned his thin face to meet his comrade's, his red, puffy eyes and tearstained face fully exposed. This all came as a big shock to Nikolai. He had never once seen the insane man cry. All he ever did was laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh at the death they were surrounded by, and now he started to cry?

Richtofen looked as though he were a deer caught in Nikolai's headlights, before shrieking and clamping his hands tightly over his ears, thrashing his legs wildly as he shivered in the corner.

"Noooo! Leave me alone!" Richtofen cried out, shrinking farther into the corner.

Nikolai looked oddly to the collapsed lump of flesh in the corner. Richtofen sobbed.

"Nein! Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

That previous statement made Nikolai realize he wasn't the one being screamed at. It was something, or someone unseen. Nikolai made his way over to the broken down Nazi and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Richtofen, what's wrong? Who you screaming at?"

"Ni-Nikolai. Ze voices...zey demand more bloodshed...zey-zey don't vant ze blood of ze dead anymore. Zey are displeased vith it."

"Well, ignore the Voices."

"Nein, zey scream at me. Zey vant ze blood of mein teammates. I von't give it to zem, and now zey are terrorizing mein head. Mein gott it hurts sho much!"

Nikolai's eyes widened at the teammate bloodshed part. For once, Richtofen was standing up to the Voices, and in turn, was paying a terrible price.

Richtofen held his head, which felt like it was imploding. In the doctor's own head, it felt like the Voices took a physical form and were clawing at the insideand of the inner walls of his cranium and ripping his brain, piece by piece. This was true pain to him, not the kind of pain he adored. The Nazi threw his head back and let out a strangled cry, tears streaming evenly in double tracks.

Nikolai panicked, who wouldn't? The Voices were hurting the doctor! Even if it was a Nazi, the Soviet couldn't bear seeing his comrade in this state. Nikolai threw aside the minor detail, along with his vodka bottle across the room, and rushed back to Richtofen's side.

"How can Nikolai help? How do we stop Voices?"

"I-I don't know, zey've been zere all mein life, I vish I knew! I vish zey vould leave me alone!"

Nikolai looked to the crumpled doctor and then back to the vodka. Maybe they could drown out the voices with vodka! Nikolai sprinted downstairs and snagged the whole stash, smacking Takeo out of the way in the process, who then laid on the ground and grumbled about Nikolai being dishonorable, but Nikolai didn't give a shit. He was desperate to help the Nazi, as crazy as it sounds. The door opened and slammed, announcing Nikolai's re-arrival as he knelt beside the still sobbing doctor.

"Here, try drowning Voices with Nikolai's vodka."

Richtofen shakily took one hand away from his ear and gripped the clear bottle, tipping it up, he downed some contents. The doctor gagged a little bit, the vodka was bitter and strong, a taste he was not used to, and yet he tried to do as Nikolai suggested. Richtofen soon adapted to the taste and drank it down. Thankfully, to Nikolai's relief, Richtofen had a low alcohol tolerance and became drowsy very easily. The tears almost immediately slowed and the doctor leaned over and clung to Nikolai, shuddering as the pain faded into his drunken haze. Now he could see why Nikolai loved being drunk, nothing could hurt him emotionally.

Nikolai allowed Richtofen to cling to him, mostly out of pity. He drew the Nazi close and wrapped his arms around the smaller, and vice versa the Nazi clung to the Soviet in a desperate hug. Nikolai normally wasn't comfortable hugging, but it felt nice to feel someone else warming you. His arms wrapped awkwardly back around the doctor, his chin resting on the doctor's cap. Before long, Nikolai barely even realized Richtofen fell asleep. By the time he realized it, he didn't want to move for fear of waking the already tortured soul seeking comfort in him. Him of all people. A Nazi seeking comfort in a Soviet. Something was strange about that, but he was the nearest person, and Nikolai would have done the same if he felt the pain Richtofen endured. Speaking of which, the man who slept in Nikolai's lap clung tighter to Nikolai, almost like if his gloved hands let go of him he would float away.

Nikolai yawned and leaned back against the wall calmly, Richtofen whimpering in his sleep, shifting involuntarily, and clenched his fists in Nikolai's coat. Nikolai looked pitifully down to the doctor, who's hand trailed up Nikolai to reach for his hand. Nikolai didn't even pull back when their fingers twined and his hand was squeezed mercilessly, but he didn't care.


End file.
